Down 20

This past weekend, after exactly 5 months of exercising (4 of them calorie counting with MyFitnessPal), I met my initial goal of losing 20 pounds. I had been chugging right along, but then it took me 6 weeks to lose the last 1.5 pounds - ridiculous!

Anyway, I've actually lost 21.2 pounds to be exact. 

But hey, who's counting, right? *wink wink*

It's been great to feel a difference in my clothing, but honestly, I swear I lost 15 pounds from my chin/face alone. Or maybe I am just learning the art of a skinnier looking selfie on Snapchat?
Every pair of pre-pregnancy jeans fits again - not so helpful since they were purchased about 6 or 7 years ago when fading was popular. 
Most of my shirts no longer fit or just look weird because, of course, my boobs defected first. Whatever, they weren't that great anyway...

Obviously my weight loss wasn't super fast. I wasn't dropping three pounds a week, but that wasn't my goal anyway. My goal was to lose weight and keep it off. 
Do I eat pizza? Yes.
Do I eat dessert? Yes.
Do I go out for margaritas and have more than I should? Yes.

I have been "dieting" this whole summer, through backyard cookouts, an anniversary trip, vacations, and s'mores freakin' galore. 

But here is the thing, I want to eat like a normal person. I am not going to pretend like I'm going to permanently refuse chocolate chip cookies or Reese's Peanut Butter pumpkins/trees/hearts/eggs for the rest of eternity. 
Cuz I'm not. 
So why try and lose weight like that?
The challenge for me was to find a balance: to eat healthier food and still eat the things I want within reason, plus keep exercise in the mix. 
And so far it's working. 

I started out thinking, "Yeah, yeah, sure I want to be healthier, but I would trade in healthy for skinny in a heartbeat."

Now my tune has changed. 

I {usually} like exercising. 
I like feeling accomplished when I am done. 
I like the feeling of muscles that are a bit sore the next morning.
And let's get real: I like being able to eat back some most of those calories I burned.

A big challenge for me that most people don't face is my Type 1 diabetes. 
Let me put it simply: it blows.
It takes a lot of fine-tuning to adjust insulin levels with the different forms/intensity of exercise. I can't tell you how many times I worked out, burning off 200, 300 calories and then had a low blood sugar an hour or two later. To bring up a low blood sugar you have to eat something, which just feels like a huge waste and totally counterproductive when you're trying to lose weight. Very frustrating.

And even after months of working to manage it, I still have lows. 
My basal levels (the amount of insulin your body needs throughout the day when not eating food) constantly change when my weight changes or because of less/more exercise. And anyone who is diabetic knows that when your blood sugar is low enough, you want to eat like you will never ever see food again.
Not the best thing for attempting weight loss.

So this post might seem to be a bit of tooting-my-own-horn, but it's my blog and I will do whatever I want I've been working hard and am excited to share my success.

21+ pounds doesn't really sound that amazing, but then I look at Graham. He weighs about 25 pounds now. I look at him and think, "Wow, I was basically carrying him around stapled to my butt?" (And chin. And waist.) 

That visual makes it feel like a real accomplishment.

Weight loss mission: one month later

Yesterday marked four weeks of exercise and less junk food. It has gone by quickly, and honestly, it hasn't been that hard to incorporate exercise into my daily life.
Some days I only get 30 minutes of time to myself, so it can be hard to use that time to work out, especially knowing I probably won't get to do something else I would like to do. {ie: the reason why I am blogging at 10 PM when I should probably be in bed...} But I always feel better after I exercise, so it is worth doing.

Jared really helped me out by downloading different videos and finding a small set of weights for us to use. Shortly after I started, he started along with me, and it is nice to have someone else to hold me accountable to get a workout in. In the first three weeks, I only missed two days. Every day I worked out for at least 20 minutes. This past week has been a bit spotty. With a two-day trip to Omaha and the next day filled with extremely whiny children, I missed some days in there.

Results wise?
I don't feel they are all that impressive. As far as the scale goes, I am down 3 pounds - that is most days. Just this morning the scale said I was back to my original weight, so who knows? (Does everyone else's weight fluctuate this much??)

I am wishing I had measured myself before I started. Even though the scale isn't showing much in the way of progress, I feel like my jeans fit a little bit better - meaning I can button them without feeling like all of my internal organs are in a denim choke hold.

I cut out most of the junk (okay, except for this past week...oops) and literally eat a boring bowl of Special K for breakfast every morning. You would think cutting out the crap, along with the supposed 500+ cals a day burned by breastfeeding, that I would be getting further ahead...

But even if I haven't lost much weight, the exercise is good for me. I haven't worked out this much since college, so I have to be gaining some muscle. Right? And I know I have gotten stronger. When I first started, I did 15 lunges the first day and thought I was going to die. Now on the main video I do, 15 lunges is basically a warm-up. When I first started, two push-ups was about my max, and now... well, I am still not amazing at them, but I can do more than two at least!


I also face a challenge in this whole thing that most people don't have to deal with: my diabetes. I have Type 1 - requiring an insulin pump - not the other kind. If you are confused on the difference, please inform yourself by reading my public service announcement on the subject HERE.

The worst part about starting an exercise program when you are diabetic is that you don't know exactly what it will do to your blood sugars. I figured I would need less insulin, and I was right. Almost immediately my sugars dropped. And they dropped all across the board. This is a good thing because it means my body is requiring less insulin. The bad part is that I have to eat or drink something with carbs to bring my level back up. So basically it is like working out and burning all those calories just to consume them right back.
It's frustrating.
It took about a week of adjusting numbers and extra checks to get things regulated again. Right now I think I am in a good place. My body is used to the workouts so I don't drop low nearly as often.

Anyway, I am only a month into it.

I know I have a long way to go.

 

I have another challenge coming up too: I am having knee surgery this Thursday.

It's nothing huge, just a torn meniscus in my left knee. Apparently I have had it since a few months after Avery was born (and she turns 2 in a month or so). It hadn't really been bothering me until I started working out for a week or so and then I began to notice it. So it will be repaired this week. I am not sure what kind of exercise I will be allowed to do and how soon, but I will try and make do with some weights and upper body exercises in the meantime. And while I am keeping with the exercise, I also need to try and curb my desire for a 6-pack of Cadbury creme eggs. And those delicious Reese's peanut butter eggs...
Oh how I love Easter!

36 weeks ... and a little pissed

Only three weeks left.
 
My doctor has agreed {with some strong persuasion from my endocrinologist} to deliver Baby by November 27th.
[It's pretty established procedure for diabetics to deliver by 39 weeks because the placenta ages faster in Type 1 diabetics.]

Now to get to the "pissed" portion of my title...

 

So yesterday I go in for another non-stress test. No big deal. They also started doing ultrasound measurements of my amniotic fluid - probably because last week I asked why they didn't do them, especially since my doctors in Omaha stressed their importance. {So apparently they decided to start just because I asked? Whatever.}

So I am laying on the table, chit-chatting while he takes all the measurements. It's literally just a little one minute long scan. Not checking anything about baby - just fluid.

Then out of the blue my doctor says, "Good news, it's still a  ______."
I literally sat upright and said, "WHAT?!"

He sputtered a bit and tried to cover his mistake, but his poker face needs some serious work.

I replied, "Did you seriously just tell me the sex of my baby?!"

He scrolls up on the screen a bit and points to Baby's genitals for further clarification - which seriously, I can't ever tell, so this wasn't helping in the slightest.

Then he says, "Oops. I thought you already knew."

Umm... no. I didn't know, asshole. But thanks for not even bothering to apologize.

We seriously waited for 9 months, and I find out randomly on an exam table - by myself - with only 3 weeks left to go?!  This seems unfair.
Every ultrasound I have ever had including ones that my doctor himself has done, I always say, "We don't know the sex, so don't tell me." I didn't this time because there was no reason for him to even mention it. Plus I had already told him at both ultrasounds last week.
Ahhhh! It's so infuriating.

It was sort of a shock to hear the news without expecting it. I was in a sort of daze as I left the office. By the time I got home, I was just upset. And I will admit it, I shed some tears over it.

Don't get me wrong, I am not upset over the sex of the baby.

I honestly didn't care one way or the other.

 

I am upset because this is - in all reality - our last child.
And I really wanted one last surprise baby.
I wanted to have that extra motivation during delivery.
I wanted to hear Jared announce, "It's a boy!" or "It's a girl!"
I liked the suspense of wondering what Baby would be.
I didn't want to know.

But now we do..
And picking names just got a little bit easier.

***

Side note:

 

Lesson Learned : Trust your instincts.

My first impression of my OB wasn't a very good one.
But with being high-risk, I felt I didn't have many choices. I should have cut and run right away. Plus any doctor who tells you to your face that he thought you were a "train wreck" probably isn't going to be your best bet. But by the time I was completely fed up, I was 30 weeks pregnant and it was a little late in the game.

As Jared put it:
If we ever decide to have another kid, this douche is definitely not getting our repeat business.

Amen.

It's Diabetes Awareness Month: Let's Celebrate!

Just kidding.   Diabetes isn't a thing to be celebrated.

But November is Diabetes Awareness Month.
And I do have Type 1 diabetes...

So in honor of this awesome {not really} month, I thought I would share some info about this disease I have been blessed with {not really times 1000} and give you some pointers on how to not make me super annoyed regarding the topic as well.

I am gonna keep it simple and try not to give you a case of the yawns.

Here's the low-down on the basics you need to know:

There are two main types of diabetes - Type 1 and Type 2.
(There is also gestational diabetes, but I am not going to get into that.)

 

Diabetes is essentially a problem with insulin. Insulin is the substance needed to get the sugar in your bloodstream into your cells to be used for energy. When this doesn't happen, it leads to the build-up of sugar in the blood - and thus the term high "blood sugar" is born.

Type 1 diabetes (also sometimes known as juvenile diabetes - which is misleading because people can get this type at any age) occurs when your body no longer has the ability to produce insulin. It's an autoimmune disorder - meaning your body basically attacks part of itself. The cells that produce insulin are destroyed, so you have to supplement with insulin via shots or a pump. This type of diabetes is of a rapid onset. And once you have it, you have it. Period. Type 1 diabetics need insulin 24 hours a day as well as insulin to cover all meals, which is done by counting carbs.

Type 2 diabetes is different. In this type the body becomes resistant to insulin. Insulin is still made - no cells are destroyed- but because of the resistance, the insulin doesn't make it into the cells like it should. Type 2 diabetes is usually gradual in development. Low-activity levels, being overweight, and poor diet are factors that contribute to the disease. People with Type 2 usually are able to take pills to help decrease the body's resistance to insulin, although in some cases this is not enough and they have to begin taking insulin too. Losing weight, changing your diet and exercising can do a lot to eliminate the need for medication altogether.

Okay, so now we have that covered.  This brings me to the rant portion of my post.
Here are some things you need to keep in mind.

1.  Type 1 and Type 2 are NOT the same.
See above information.
They are two different diseases, with different causes and treatments.
I feel like type 1 diabetics get lumped in with all the information out there about "diabetes" in general. You know what I am talking about: the video footage they show on The Nightly News - the ones with morbidly obese people shown from the neck down walking down the street - while Brian Williams discusses the newest horrible statistics. I don't like being associated with that. Some people hear "diabetes" and that is their go-to visual picture. I didn't get diabetes from my horrible diet. And I don't wear unflattering spandex pants either, thankyouverymuch.


2.  Don't tell me what to eat or that I should start working out to "cure" myself.
Nothing is better than eating a delicious piece of birthday cake and having someone come up to you and say something like "So naughty! You shouldn't be eating that!" and smile like they said something absolutely hilarious. A close runner-up is when someone (who is Type2) comes up to you, pokes you in the stomach, and says loudly to a room full of people: "Us diabetic girls have to keep a watch on our fat bellies." [Unfortunately a true story... and I was also pregnant at the time which made it even better.]

This annoys me to no end!
Nutritional information aside, from a carbohydrate standpoint, a piece of cake is the same to my body as a banana and glass of skim milk. My insulin covers it exactly the same. I could eat just plain lettuce all day long, but I would still require insulin every single day for the rest of my life. Period. So stop with the "joking" comments when I eat a cheeseburger or have a piece of cake like everyone else. You're not particularly funny. I am just kind enough to roll my eyes behind your back instead of to your face.

Same goes for the exercise comments. For sure I should exercise more than I do. But no amount of marathon running or weight lifting is going to "cure" me. But thanks for the tips...


3.  Stop giving me your advice.
Are you a nurse specializing in diabetes? A physician's assistant? A doctor? Do you even have Type 1 diabetes yourself?

No?  

Then S.T.F.U. keep your "medical" advice to yourself. 

You cannot believe how many people come up to me on a regular basis to tell me about how their great aunt tried this special diet or how a friend-of-a-friend-of-a-friend tried this vitamin cleanse that made it so they never have to take insulin again. Clearly you just don't get it. Which is fine. Just shut your trap.
When I hear that someone has cancer, I don't go up to them and suggest they change their chemo regimen or tell them that they should just cut out dairy and they will be cured. Because that is stupid - not to mention rude. And again, obviously, you just don't get it - which leads me to my next item...


4.  Ask me questions.
I am all for questions. That's how we all learn. Because unless you or someone close to you has the disease, you probably don't know much about it. When people give me weird looks about my pump, I explain what it is. If people ask about how it works, I (literally) lift up my shirt to show them the site where my tubing goes in. When people ask about what foods I can eat, I explain the differences between type 1 and 2 so that they aren't another annoying person who comments on the "naughty" foods I eat.
I don't expect you to know much about the disease - I didn't know anything about it until I was diagnosed myself. So instead of acting like a total know-it-all jackass, ask a question or two and maybe learn something new.


Okay, okay... rant complete.

I really should make a copy of this and hand it out to people.
Over kill? Yeah, probably.

But I sincerely do hope that some of the info was helpful. And that I will never ever again receive another belly poke from someone referring to my "diabetic belly."   Here's hoping.

 

24 weeks

On Tuesday this week I had an OB appointment. I am now 24 weeks along.
It was nothing exciting - just the usual:
weight (total gained of 20 lbs, although none gained in the past 6 weeks...clearly I put it on early!)
measurements (right on track)
and baby's heart rate (142)

Then a quick reference to my blood sugars:
Doc: How have your sugars been?
Me: They have been great.
Doc: Good.
[End of discussion.]
Seriously, he could at least feign some interest. He is my doctor after all! Isn't he at least supposed to pretend to care?? I feel bad for a first-time pregnant diabetic mom using this office...
{This isn't the first time I have said a silent prayer of thanks that I had my first two kids in Omaha with outstanding prenatal care and an amazing endocrinology team.}

The visits are usually pretty short. And honestly, my OB isn't my favorite doctor ever. My first impression wasn't great, but being high-risk severely limits my options. This isn't Omaha and I am kind of stuck with who I have.

And speaking of first impressions...

He is looking over my labs and remarking about how well I am doing and says to me out of the blue:
"I have to be honest, when you walked in here for your first visit and I looked over your history, I thought to myself, 'Wow, another non-compliant patient. She is going to be a total train wreck.' But you aren't. You could probably be teaching my other patients how this is done. I guess I have to admit I was wrong."
What?!
First of all, who even says that?!
And second of all, I truly can't believe he even thought that.

I work in health care. We all make snap judgments on patients from the first moment we see them, especially if you've read a particularly juicy H&P.  But really??? What exactly made me seem like I would be a "train wreck"?

I showed up the week before for a patient "interview" where I gave them my complete health history. I even had all my previous prenatal records and labs faxed to the office beforehand (which clearly he didn't look at). I arrived early, with Jared in tow, for my first appointment. And compared to the collection of visible Pooh tattoos and stained sweatpants-turned-cut-off-shorts I saw in the waiting room, I would say I was dressed very nicely. When I met my doctor, we chatted about how both Jared and I are nurses and how we previously worked at the Med Center, where he completed his residency. My labs have always been in the excellent range during both pregnancies, just as they are now.

I literally laughed when he said this to me. Anyone who knows me knows that I am far from non-compliant and probably a tad more on the overzealous side. 
When I told my mom about it, she replied, "Did you tell him that your first impression was that he was an ass? Because one of you was right."   Yep. Kinda true...

Oh well.  Only 15 weeks left.

Tired

That one word basically sums up how I have felt the past two or so weeks.

Our independent little 2 year-old has decided that it is unnecessary to sleep past 6:30 AM. Ever. And in fact, some days it is quite important to wake up at 5:30. Isn't that awesome? And another added bonus is that when she decides it is time to get up, apparently everyone must wake up, including her little sister. Avery is not much of a morning person and hasn't appreciated the early wake-up call that is Bailey yelling "Mom-meee!" from behind the baby gate at their door.

Now 6:30 or even 5:30 might not seem bad to some unfortunate parents, but I have been spoiled over the course of this past year or so. The usual wake-up time was around 8:00. My way of thinking is, if the Today Show isn't even on yet, there is absolutely no reason for me to be awake. Adding this recent change along with the fact that most days naps are a huge struggle for Bailey (ie: she won't take one) and I am just exhausted.

But then came today... I woke up to the sound of "Mom-meee!" per usual, but this time I didn't mutter expletives under my breath. My eyes actually opened pretty easily and I didn't have the split second thought of hiding under the covers and pretending I hadn't heard anything. This was unusual.
I looked at the clock:

                           8:28                      

Hallelujah!

I can't tell you what a difference two hours of extra sleep made in my day. It was like a sweet little present first thing in the morning. I have so much more patience today. I don't feel the constant desire to climb on the couch for a quick nap so I can forget about the laundry that needs folded and the floor that needs swept.

It's amazing.

I don't know why pregnancy feels different this time around, but it does. With the Bailey I was tired for the first trimester and then, like you are always told, I got my energy back. With Avery, I didn't feel tired at all. Now, I am well into the second trimester and just more tired with every day that passes. Maybe it's that I have two children now. Or the fact that their naps are a luxury some days. Or maybe I am just being a big baby.

Our "big" ultrasound is in about 3 weeks and I find myself getting a little nervous about it. Not nervous because I want a boy or a girl. (We aren't finding out and I don't have a preference anyway.) I am just remembering how nerve wracking it was when we were anxiously watching the ultrasound tech measure and record everything during Avery's ultrasound. I could barely breathe. In fact I was holding my breath without even meaning to. I was just so worried they would find a cleft like Bailey had or something worse. {Pregnancy definitely brings out the worry wart in me.}

With this pregnancy we are at a different hospital with a different doctor and different ultrasound techs. The ultrasound tech was sympathetic to us last time and gave us hints during the exam that everything was normal. We only waited about 5 minutes for the doctor to come in and tell us everything looked great. We don't have that convenience this time. I had to schedule an appointment for two whole days later to find out the results because the doctor doesn't read the ultrasounds in the office - they send them out to a radiologist. The 5 minute wait with Avery seemed like a long time. Two days is going to feel like forever. Seriously, is that normal?? Doesn't everyone usually find out that same day?

I really miss The Nebraska Medical Center when it comes to this whole pregnancy thing. I felt like they respected my opinion and they actually knew me. They acknowledged I was working hard to maintain awesome blood sugars and was taking the possible care of myself. I don't necessarily know that it's the same this time. This doctor rubbed me wrong from the start by hinting that my blood sugars weren't under control. I assured him that I have done this twice before and that my levels were not just good, but great. {Honestly, I have been a type 1 diabetic for 10 years now, I know how this whole things works...} He was doubtful and gave me the typical diabetics and pregnancy spiel.

At my last appointment we discussed my sugars and I guaranteed my lab would be under 6. He wasn't so sure. Low and behold, my A1c came back at 5.7 and he even wrote "Awesome!" beside the labs results mailed to me. And for that I would like to throw a big "I told you so" in his direction. (FYI for non-medical people, 6.5 or lower is the usual goal for diabetics and 6.0 is considered a normal number for non-diabetics.) So I probably sound like I am tooting my own horn, and I guess I am. Because it is a lot of hard work to be pregnant in general and being diabetic adds a whole new dimension.

Okay, so this was a very random post about very loosely related topics... Right now I am going to go enjoy the peace and quiet in our house. It never lasts for very long.